Merry fucking Christmas.
This party is going to be a nightmare. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked her to come with me. I talk about her so much at work that the others have begged me to bring her around and introduce her. I’m worried they know how I feel about Clara and will tell her, and our friendship will be ruined.
The only thing that would be worse than her not returning my feelings would be living without her.
Going alone doesn’t appeal to me either. I fear I would gravitate toward Gabriel, making him feel uncomfortable.
Part of me wants to throw caution to the wind and go off suppressants, just to see what happens. In my heart, I know I don’t care if Clara and I are scent matches or not. It won’t change how I feel. Knowing that our pheromones are perfect matches for one another isn’t necessary to know that I love her.
But what if my scent is repulsive to her? What if I go off suppressants and she thinks I smell terrible? My scent is an unusual gourmand. What if she doesn’t like chocolate oranges? I always thought it was fun that my scent matched the candy that I’d find in the toe of my stocking every Christmas morning, but what if she hates those?
Would she be able to push past that to develop a relationship with me?
If I stop taking the suppressants, chances are I’d go into heat pretty soon after. I went on them in the beginning to regulate my heats, because they weren’t predictable, and when they finally happened, the pain was brutal.
Going off of them is scary for several reasons. What if I stop taking the suppressants, go into heat, and she hates how I smell? Would she help me through it, or would she call a heat helper service and make herself scarce?
I don’t know if my heart could take it if she didn’t want to be with me and called someone else to help me instead.
No, it’s better if I don’t know. To continue as we are. She is my best friend, and she’s given me no sign that she returns my affection. I need to keep my sad little Omega heart to myself. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.
She doesn’t need to know I use her shirt as a pillowcase in my nest.
But every day I don’t tell her how I feel is harder than the one before. It’s a daily battle with my hindbrain to keep my mouth shut and not drown her in my feelings.
“What’s the plan for tonight?” She asks, hopping off the counter. She peels off her ugly sweater, and I take advantage of her sight being obscured to stare at that strip of bare flesh that peeks out of the top of her jeans as she pulls it over her head.
I look away before she can catch me gawking.
Fucking hell, I don’t know how I’m going to keep this up. When I told her to move in with me, I didn’t think it’d be like this. I knew I had feelings for her, but since we started spending so much time together, they’ve grown so much.
I can’t continue lusting after her. It’s not fair to either of us. Even with the suppressants in my system helping control it, I’m constantly slick when she’s nearby, like a goddamn creep, and she doesn’t deserve to be objectified like I’ve been doing.Every time she bends down to take something out of a cabinet is a brutal test of my willpower.
But I can’t throw her out, and the idea of distancing myself from her has me wanting to whine and curl up in my nest.
I will have to suffer in silence. Someday, she’ll find a partner that isn’t me, and I’ll need to accept it.
Even if it kills me.
FOUR
NINE DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS
I push backfrom my desk, clutching my empty coffee cup in my hand. “Anyone want some coffee while I’m up?” I ask my coworkers. It’s not about needing caffeine to keep me going; it’s about moving and giving my eyes a screen break.
Also, it’ll help warm me up, because it’s cold as hell in here. Why is it always so cold in offices?
“Nah,” Katy says, waving me off without looking away from her screen. “Any more and I’ll vibrate right out of my pants.”
Katy, another Omega, has worked at CHC for the past three years. She’s the closest friend I have here, but I have a feeling that one day that’s going to bite me in the ass.
She’s constantly butting heads with our CEO, Mitchell. He took the company over from his father two years ago. They’ve known each other since they were kids, apparently, but he moved away when they were fifteen. By the time he came back, they were both twenty-five, had gone through their presentations, and wanted nothing to do with one another.
It’s been tense around here since.
Like me, Katy is on suppressants that mask her scent andthe scents of those around her. She says it’s because she has no desire to be tied down to a pack, but part of me thinks she’s afraid she’s a scent match to Mitchell. They can’t stay away from each other, even if, right now, the interactions are always negative.
I don’t have room to judge, though. I’ve got my head in the sand, too, pretending that pining after my boss and my best friend will not bite me in the ass.
